


Stupor

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 18:54:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17834222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Ignis waits for his alpha in the Citadel.





	Stupor

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

In the tail end of heat, Ignis can’t quite cling to consciousness. It drifts in and out, amidst a slew of sweat-slicked wet dreams that all feature _Noctis_ front and center. In his waking moments, he can’t find Noctis next to him, so he prefers to drift away. 

Noctis was with him as much as possible, of course. Ignis understands better than anyone how busy a royal schedule truly is—he never once thought that his alpha could stay with him throughout the entire affair. If anything, Ignis wishes he were out _with_ Noctis, driving his beloved prince to each event and managing that busy schedule, just like he normally does. Unfortunately, circumstances dictate otherwise. Ignis does his best. He takes suppressants when he can and pushes through any other weaknesses his biology might give him, but even Ignis Scientia can’t entirely avoid his fate. Sometimes heat just _takes him_ , and there’s nothing he can do.

He can run into Noctis’ arms. He did, and the enormous bed still smells of Noctis at every corner. Ignis keeps his nose buried in the pillow, inhaling the raw, musky scent that his alpha left behind. He has Noctis’ sheets and blankets wrapped thickly around him, Noctis’ clothes knotted around the edge to form the barriers of his nest. Ignis surrounds himself with every bit of Noctis that he can, but he fights to resist texting and calling Noctis any more than he already has. His phone rests on the nightstand. It’s gone off every hour that Noctis has been gone, just checking in and reassuring Ignis that he’ll be back as soon as possible. Ignis knows that. Hearing his alpha’s voice through the receiver isn’t the same as feeling the deep purr of it rumble through his body in person, but hearing that voice still soothes him. Each time he does wake up to find the bed still bare, he closes his eyes again. On any normal day, Ignis is fiercely independent for an omega. During heat, he _needs_ his precious alpha. 

The next time he wakes up, it’s to a quiet knock against the bedroom door. Ignis dimly listens to it, heart leaping with hope, but he knows everything about his alpha right down to the rhythm of his knock, and that’s not how Noctis knocks. It’s likely a maid or some other staff member. That’s the downside to staying at the Citadel as opposed to Noctis’ apartment. But he was at the Citadel when the heat first took him, and he loves Noctis’ old room—it always fills him with dozens of memories, from back when they were hapless children, and Ignis could love his prince without anyone there to question it. He always knew he wanted to be _Noctis’_ , at least as long as he was omega and Noctis alpha, but he learned quickly that wouldn’t be wise. He is, after all, only a servant, low-born and male, and Noctis should be given a gorgeous high-born wife to share the crown. The knock comes again, and Ignis still ignores it, knowing whoever it is won’t dare to burst inside. Ignis curls up tighter inside the blankets and rubs his face against the pillow, cooing as Noctis’ scent fills him even deeper. 

He passes out, and the next time he wakes up, the knocking’s back. It’s different this time, stronger, louder—most likely an alpha. The thought of that quickens Ignis’ breath and makes his muscles all tense up—he can’t have another alpha come near him when he’s in this state. He belongs to _Noctis_. But he doesn’t have the wherewithal to move, much less to defend himself. His legs are still numb from Noctis driving into him all night, and his arms can’t even muster the strength to lift himself up to his elbows. He stares hazily across the giant room, letting out a distressed puff of pheromones when the door pushes open.

A moment later, Ignis settles. The scent that intrudes into his sanctuary is similar to Noctis’, familiar and comforting. He dazedly watches as King Regis strolls into the room. Regis halts halfway across the carpet and blinks over at Ignis. A part of Ignis knows it’s _horrible_ —he’s betrayed some deep, dark secret of Noctis’—but he’s too dizzy to do anything about it. A frown settles over Regis’ handsome features. Then he continues his walk towards the bed.

He stops there. It’s clear that Ignis has surprised him. For that and more, Ignis wants to apologize. He opens his parched lips but can’t seem to make anything come out. All he’s done for the past several hours has been moan and scream Noctis’ name. Regis quietly notes, “I had thought Noctis was home. There were reports of noise in this wing, and I’d hoped to catch him on a rare visit.”

“Sorry,” Ignis murmurs. He can feel his whole face heating and can only imagine how pink and red his cheeks must be. His glasses are on the nightstand, but it’s hard to tell if his vision’s blurry because of that or the heat. He’s sure the blush shows on his bare shoulders too. The rest of him is hidden by the blankets. He feels compelled to repeat profusely, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”

“Shh,” Regis hushes, and Ignis instantly closes his mouth. It’s slowly coming back to him why he must apologize—he shouldn’t be in his prince’s bed. He has no right to dare seduce his betters. _Shame_ washes over him. After a long and painful moment, Regis asks, “Does Noctis treat you well?”

There’s no point denying that Ignis has given his body to Noctis. He lets his eyes close and nods against the pillow, mumbling, “Y... yes, Your Majesty... he is... very good to me...” Regis must be a wondrous alpha, more than worthy of his power—Ignis has always thought that. Regis must have taught Noctis well. All of Noctis’ bratty and difficult behaviours go out the window when Ignis _needs_ him.

Regis all but whispers, “And he has claimed you.” It isn’t even a question. Ignis’ whole body is wracked with a violent wince.

He guiltily draws back the blankets, tilting his head aside to display his throat, where the red bruise of their bonding must still be apparent. Noctis bites it into him again every time his heat comes. He can still feel the soreness of it, and he still relishes that tingling feeling. Ignis can’t bring himself to meet Regis’ eyes. 

Regis tells him, “I’m glad.”

Ignis blinks. He looks up at Regis, lost. Regis wears a thin but kind smile. He sighs. “The council will not be pleased, but I know you well, Ignis, and I could not ask for a better omega for my son.” Ignis is in shock. He tilts his head and continues to stare up at his king, who continues, “Such a beautiful young thing—Noctis has done well to win you. But more so, I know that you are responsible and intelligent, and you care for Noctis a great deal. You have always proven yourself devoted to him. I know you aren’t simply drawn to his title, as so many would be.”

“I love him,” Ignis blurts: the one thing that’s easy to say even in his condition. He loves Noctis _so much_. Regis nods.

“I know. And I’m sure he loves you just as deeply. I suppose I can see why the two of you hid it, but you need not do so anymore.”

Ignis nods, humbled. Regis takes a step closer. His scent envelops Ignis, soothing him, tempering the heat—so like Noctis’ and yet different. Ignis leans gratefully into it. Regis even reaches down to fondly pet through Ignis’ hair and tell him, “Noctis and I had a meeting tonight, but I will cancel it. He should spend that time with his omega, who clearly needs him.”

Ignis would murmur _thank you_ but can’t seem to do anything more than purr as Regis pets him. He only snaps out of it when someone clears their throat.

Ignis opens his eyes and glances at the doorway. Noctis stands there, glaring icily at his father, who slowly withdraws. Ignis instantly misses the friendly touch but wants his alpha _more_.

Like a coeurl waiting to attack, Noctis stalks forward. He moves himself between the bed and Regis, who steps back to accommodate. Clearly bracing himself for a battle, Noctis says, “I choose Ignis. I’ve already claimed him.”

“I know,” Regis answers. “I only wish you would have trusted me enough to tell me. Then I could have taught you better than to leave an omega alone when they’re in heat.”

Noctis blushes. Ignis can sense his surprise—he obviously expected to have to fight for their relationship. But Regis only tells him, “You had better take more thorough care of him in the future, Noct, or you _will_ be in quite a bit of trouble.” Then, with a polite nod of his head to Ignis, Regis makes for the door.

Noctis remains standing until the door clicks closed. Then he turns to look down at Ignis, who honestly feels like he’s on top of the world. 

Slowly, the realization that they won’t be pulled apart sets into Noctis. The aggression melts away from him, and he climbs onto the bed, slipping deftly beneath the blankets, where he embraces Ignis warmly. Ignis cuddles right back into his alpha, incredibly _happy_.


End file.
